THE TRUE KING OF DAHAAR by TARA PAMMI

Author:TARA PAMMI, [PAMMI,, TARA]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: ROMANCE
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2014-10-01T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

REFUSING THE INVITATION to stay another night, Azeez turned just as one of his contacts stepped into the perimeter of the encampment and nodded at him.

He had visited two different camps in the last twenty-four hours across a hundred miles, trying to locate him. Glad that Nikhat wouldn’t be lonely and wondering about him, because she would had her sisters not been there, he took his leave from the chief of the Mijab.

The older man clasped both his hands, his gaze dancing with a million questions.

“You’ll always have a place with us,” he said in an older dialect of Arabic that the bedouins had used and that his father had insisted he learn. The chief had recognized Azeez within a week of finding him in the desert, and he would always be grateful to the older man for keeping his secret.

Azeez shook his head, knowing that now he couldn’t bear to live in the desert anymore. He thanked the chief for his hospitality for the past day and joined his contact.

His heart thumped loudly in his chest as he walked a mile off the beaten path where another man, a native of Zuran was waiting for him. Fierce satisfaction fueled him. The network of contacts he had built over the years was still intact, and something almost like a thrill chased his blood.

But this time it wasn’t just the fiercely alive feeling that had kept him going for six years. This time it was coupled with the fact that he could go back to Ayaan and give him some much-needed information.

Signaling his contact to stay behind, Azeez slowly made his way to the small group gathered outside a tent. One man stood up from the group and walked inside as soon as he spied him. Checking that the pistol he had strapped to his left leg was still intact, Azeez stepped inside the tent.

Shock waves pulsed through him as the man turned around, and the feeble light from the two hanging lanterns illuminated his features in a garish yellow glow.

His own features wreathed in mirroring shock, Zayed Al Salaam, his oldest friend, stared back at him. “Inshallah, it is you.”

Dressed in combat uniform, his face half covered in sand and mud, his dark golden eyes gleaming in the half light, Zayed covered the distance between them in two steps and embraced Azeez hard. “Of all the things to crawl out from under the desert sand…Azeez Al Sharif…” Zayed said, his voice harsh and yet unable to hide the tremor within. A spark of anger colored his gaze as Zayed studied Azeez with undisguised intensity. “I would have given anything to have the aid of an old friend these past years, Azeez.”

Azeez closed his eyes as a cold sweat seized his insides. His breath fisted in his throat, cutting off his words.

Would there be no end to the faces that greeted him from the past? Would he never be rid of the unrelenting guilt?

He had done everything he

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